


oh, darling boy, your head cannot hold all the fractured pieces of your heart

by masaomi



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: POV Second Person, Poetry, Short, i just wanted to post this here idk, kind of not rly, like everything i write, sighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masaomi/pseuds/masaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an examination of the boy in four parts. </p>
<p>
  <em>{gansey; noah; ronan; adam}</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh, darling boy, your head cannot hold all the fractured pieces of your heart

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh sry this is just some dumb thing i wrote for trc and my fav boys

i. you search for a meaning. you need a mission, a calling, an importance. the arcane draws you in and you know there is more than this. the twilight forest and the scent of stars fill your blood. there is no time for mundane concerns and something is vibrating in your soul.

ii. you are a whisper on the world but will not be forgotten. you remain an echo on the wind, a murky outline on the horizon, but you remain. forever hidden in the dusk, a half-remembered shadow, but in the shadow nonetheless. you have been named after a survivor – though the breath is gone the imprint is not.

iii. you breath out swirls of dark reveries and memories that are not yours. you belong to the streets when they are bathed in nighttime and opaque from the dust. salvation is for those children of laughter and joy, but you emerged from the area in between black and white. there is blood in your mouth and it tastes like existence.

iv. you feel as though you will waste away. isolation is a bad taste in your mouth, but as the borders grow more clear so does the mind. a pattern of bruises and soil paints your slender frame and you are lost on the road paved with some type of intention. the mind is the shelter but the mind is the cage. you are lost.


End file.
